MIDNIGHT HUNT: Book 3 of the Bonded By Blood Vampire Chronicles (13 page)

He placed his hand over hers and gazed into her sapphire eyes. “I don’t want my past to burden this. It’s not fair to you.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

Broderick cupped her jaw and brushed his thumb over her cheek. “There are so many things about you that remind me of her. You have the same eyes, the same mannerisms. Even the same gestures.” Monika drew her bottom lip between her teeth and Broderick chuckled. “Aye, just like that one. And the way you jut your chin forward when you stand your ground.”

“Do I do that?” Her brows drew together.

Deep laughter rumbled from his chest. “Aye, you do.” He brushed a strand of her chocolate hair from her forehead. “Davina is…” Broderick couldn’t finish the sentence.
Davina is dead.

“What a beautiful name.”

Tears shot down his cheeks, unexpectedly. He nodded. “Aye,” he replied, his voice heavy with grief.

“Oh, Broderick.” Monika wiped his cheeks with tender fingers, moisture welling in her own eyes. “You are such a beautiful man,” she whispered, and stood on her tiptoes to kiss one of his tears from the corner of his lips.

Like a man starved, Broderick open his mouth and claimed hers in a possessive kiss, drinking her in, dragging her into his arms and crushing her body against him. It was her. Honey on her tongue. Lavender and the sweet essence of her blood filling his nostrils. Her breathy moans, whispering his name. The same nibbles, the sweep of her tongue, her fingertips seeking to caress his mouth as he devoured her, the pressure of her full breasts against his chest. “Davina.”

She stilled in his arms and pressed gently against his chest. He reluctantly broke from their kiss and was almost surprised to see Monika in his arms. She brushed her thumb over his mouth and a soft smile, with a small measure of sadness, curled her lips ever-so slightly. “I understand now what you mean.”

“What?” Broderick groaned. “What did I do?”

“You called me Davina.”

“Oh, Monika.” He shook his head and touched his brow to hers. “I’m so sorry. I—”

She placed a fingertip on his lips. “All is well. I’m surprised. I-I’m actually…I don’t mind. And I understand.”

“This isn’t fair to you.” He dipped his head for one more taste of her lips. “Perhaps I just need a little time.”

“Time is something we have.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.

A lump formed in Broderick’s throat as he held fast to her.
Time is something
I
have, Blossom, but never enough with you.

His kisses still tingling on her lips, Monika gathered as much wolfsbane as she could handle. Broderick insisted he carry both baskets while she collected more of the herb. He managed the load surprisingly well and, baskets stuffed full, they both trekked back to the village, relieved there were no incidents of an attack. Monika informed her neighbors to use leather gloves if they were going to help. If they weren’t helping, they were ordered out of the kitchen. Her Scotsman stood sentinel outside at the edge of the small group, alert for anything unusual.

As Monika supervised the activities, she’d steal glances at Broderick, who winked at her if he caught her staring. She’d blush and he’d chuckle, then pretend to return to guard duty with a stoic expression, but a repressed smile that brought out his dimple.

With the infusion complete, Broderick pulled Monika aside. “I don’t want to leave, but I must. I have some personal needs I must attend to.”

“Of course.” She fought the heavy drag on her heart. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for us tonight.”

Lacing his fingers with hers, his eyes roamed around the clustered group of villagers while he slowly backed into the shadows. Placing a finger over his lips, he pulled her with him and mischief danced in his eyes.

She glanced over her shoulder. No one seemed to notice them slip between the kitchen house and the adjacent cottage. Broderick encased her within his arms against the wall and claimed her mouth with a hungry kiss. Monika melted against his solid frame, her head dizzy from his magic. Heart racing, gasping for breath, she could not get enough of this man. His possessive hands, so achingly familiar. His kisses like sweet memories. Her body knew him. Nothing had ever been so perfect, so right.

The passion from their kiss ebbed, slowing to delicate nibbles and caresses. Monika’s knees buckled and she would have collapsed had it not been for his tight embrace.

He touched the tip of his nose to hers. “That wasn’t enough, but it will have to carry me ’til the morrow.”

She cocked an eyebrow and pulled him in for another kiss.

Broderick groaned into her mouth and lifted her from ground. “Och, woman! You’ll be the death of me.”

Monika gasped, and then grinned so hard her cheeks hurt. “I swear to you, Broderick MacDougal. You’ve leapt from my dreams straight into my arms.”

His deliciously deep laughter rumbled against her breasts. “Aye, lass. Truer words have never been said.” With one more hungry kiss, he let her slide down his body and moaned. Grasping her by the hand, he peeked around the corner then casually strolled back into the wide path, where her neighbors were still gathered, chattering.

“Good night, Fräulein Konrads.” Broderick brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, those hooded emerald eyes seeing into her soul.

“Oy, now, MacDougal!” Helmut protested. “You do that in front of our wives, and they’ll be expecting us to follow suit!”

Riotous laughter filled the streets and Edda punched her husband’s arm. Broderick chuckled, then handed Helmut a small sack. “This should get you started on labor and materials.” He patted the blacksmith on the shoulder. “So all of you know, I do have some duties to tend to during the day, but I will be changing my sleeping habits so I’m up most of the night. That will give me a better opportunity to be alert and awake while the werewolves are active.”

Helmut’s jaw dropped and he and Broderick seized each other by the forearms with a firm shake. The rest of the villagers voiced their appreciation and well wishes.

Taking Monika in hand, Broderick waved goodnight, then led her down the wide path, away from the group of villagers. “Until the morrow? At sunset?”

She grinned. “I shall count the hours,” she whispered, using his own words from the night before.

Broderick laid a sensual kiss to her palm and Monika swooned. As he stepped backward, his hand clung to hers as long as possible before they parted. She stared after his retreating figure, admiring his broad back and shoulders, his well-shaped posterior and powerful thighs. The man oozed sexuality with every step as he sauntered away, occasionally glancing over his shoulder at her and gifting her with a sensuous smile.

“He seems like a good man,” Edda said at her side. “Scottish and a deep voice. Is he the one?”

When Broderick finally walked out of her view, she turned to her friend. “Yes, I believe he’s the man in my dreams.”

“You have the knowing, just like your grandmothers on both sides of your family.” Edda put her arm around Monika and they turned toward the crowd. “I’m happy for you, love.”

“Thank you.” Monika smiled, then waved to address her neighbors. “It’s getting late. Let’s get our houses dressed with the infusions and get ourselves off to bed. I think we’ll all sleep a little sounder tonight.”

Many nodded in agreement and Monika organized the activity. As the villagers set off to do as she instructed, she recalled what Broderick said about Vamsyrians being known as the Blood of the Cursed. Werewolves were cursed. She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and tapped her chin.
Perhaps there’s something else I can do to protect the village.

* * * * *

Monika made short order of her chores the next morning, grabbed her small basket of remedies, which she was rarely without, and marched the long trek to Vollstadt. Thomas was due for a royal scolding for what he did last night.

As she stomped into the tavern of The Red Stag, Monika jumped at the innkeeper’s voice and stopped at the doorway.

“I don’t know, Aggie!” Otto yelled at the blonde woman at the bar. He vigorously scrubbed the bar top with a brush and soapy water. “You come in here with so many men, how am I supposed to keep track of them?”

Aggie punched her fists onto her hips. “It was that Scotsman, the tall one with the red hair. Ain’t too many of—”

“Oh, him! No, he didn’t say nothin’ before he left. In fact, I don’t even remember seein’ him leave. I thought he was up in the room with you the whole night.”

Monika gasped and quietly sat in one of the chairs.

Aggie crossed her arms. “No.” She paced in front of the bar, pouting. “All I remembers is him kissing me and then I wakes yesterday mornin’ with a stack o’ silver. Are you sure you ain’t heard nothin’ about where he is? If I can keep a man like that happy, I can fills my coffers and…”

Monika had heard enough. She stomped across the room and ascended the staircase.
And to think I let him take such liberties with me and those kisses!
Tears pricked her eyes and her stomach roiled. Those brief moments she’s shared with Broderick were so special, the sweetest she’d ever experienced. How could they not be true? Surely the feelings they had for each other were sincere. Monika stopped in front of Thomas’s door, wiping her tears. The girl was either lying or Broderick was…and a masterful liar he’d be if he was. Gritting her teeth and wiping her face dry, she shoved her anger aside for the time being. She’d deal with Broderick later.

She rapped on the door and tapped her foot, waiting longer than usual for him. Just as she raised her fist to knock again, the door swung open and she gasped.

Thomas stood shirtless, unshaven and hair mussed. He was almost as muscular as Broderick, sleek curves and hard edges, but in a smaller package. The effect Thomas’s nude torso had on her was nothing in comparison to seeing Broderick’s last night in front of the villagers. Her mouth had watered as Broderick turned his godlike body full circle and she’d devoured every inch of his skin with her eyes. He was a sight to behold! However, Thomas’s half-naked state was a mere surprise due to the inappropriateness.

She crossed her arms and pursed her lips. “Not feeling well?”

“And good morning to you, my dear,” he greeted with an especially low and gravelly voice. “I had not expected you to call so early. Please, come in.” He surprised her by stepping aside to allow her entrance without incident. She placed her basket on the desk.

Thomas shuffled to the center of the room and seated himself, putting his head in his hands, resting his elbows on the table.

“You lied to me.” She stood over him with her hands on her hips. “You said you locked yourself up on the nights of the full moon.” Unexpectedly, a lump clogged her voice when she thought of poor Brynner.

“Normally, I do, and I’m sorry.” At least he seemed contrite, his words thick with regret and sorrow. He sat back and sighed. “I had been out tending to some personal affairs and…” His ice-blue eyes traveled down her body. “I became so engrossed in what I was doing, I lost track of the time.” His gaze lingered on her breasts before they returned to her face. Any trace of sorrow was gone, replaced with smoldering desire.

She retreated a few steps and clenched her jaw. “You’ve endangered my friend, Brynner!” Monika crossed her arms over her breasts.

“Believe me, I regret doing so, but there would have been two people bitten last night if not for the timely intervention of a Vamsyrian.”

She hitched her breath. “A what?”
Broderick?

“They’re the natural enemies of werewolves. Blood sucking, night dwellers who—”

“I know
what
they are. Are you certain it was a Vamsyrian?”

He scoffed. “I know one when I see one, my dear.”

Monika blanched.
Herr MacDougal has a lot of explaining to do!

“We werewolves have a certain sense about them when they’re close. It gives us an advantage over them, along with the fact that they cannot hear our thoughts. A Vamsyrian usually won’t know when a werewolf is upon them.”

“Why is that?”

“You know about Vamsyrians, but not their connection to werewolves?” He shrugged. “The very purpose of a werewolf is to kill Vamsyrians. The venom of our bite, which causes the curse, is fatal to those blood-sucking monsters. We are, quite literally, the hounds of hell, but for the betterment of mankind. Honestly, if the transformation wasn’t so damned painful, I would enjoy being a werewolf.” He propped his foot on the table, spreading his legs as he leaned back in his chair, the contours of his groin very obvious in his thin breeches. Heat flushed to Monika’s cheeks and she diverted her attention higher. Lacing his hands behind his head, he displayed his full naked torso in all its muscular glory. If Thomas’s character wasn’t so shifty and selfish, she might actually be attracted to the man. His body was pure, physical art…but he knew it all too well.

She focused on his eyes. “Then why didn’t you kill the Vamsyrian?”

He glowered. “He had a silver blade.” Thomas put his leg down and winced as he stood. He attempted to pull the waistband of his breeches down, exposing a rather nasty cut on his hip, but the gash disappeared into his trousers.

Monika shook her head and retrieved her basket. Pulling up a chair, she sat beside him and riffled through her remedies for the treatments she needed. “Please pull your waistband down further so I may clean and dress the wound.”